


The Eye

by aureliu_s



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Short, headcanon by me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aureliu_s/pseuds/aureliu_s
Summary: After Ragnarok, Syn takes Thor to her dying sister, Eir, goddess of healing, who has a gift for him.





	The Eye

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I don't use this story as canon :) it's just a cool idea I had  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel or any part of it, I partially own Syn, and this is a non-profit fanfic.

“Thor.”  
Her voice was cold, bitter, like the ice that coated Asgard in the winters. It made the skin on his arms crawl, made his spine tingle. He hated that tone with every fiber of his being, yet slowly, he turned from the cargo bay door, and answered to it.  
“I am here, kjære.”  
A harsh snort was his only reply for a damp minute.  
“Come here, Thor.”  
He kept his blue eyes trained on her back, on her tangled and dirty caramel hair. Slow, small steps carried him forward until he stood beside where she knelt.

The woman lying on the floor beside Syn had streaming gold hair, glittering robes of the same color, now disgraced and battered, torn and burned. Her pale skin was ripped, bloodied, scorched in more places than not.  
“This is Eir. My sister.” Thor felt his stomach knot beneath his armor; her sister. Eir, goddess of healing. “And she is dying.”  
A sputtering cough brought them both back to focus, and the woman in gold tried her best to laugh.  
“You make it sound so terrible, sister,” she smiled meekly. “So black.” Her pale face turned slowly to look at Thor, dry lips cracking as she smiled again. “You, my king. Your eye.” Her swollen and bruised fingers lifted and he swiftly knelt to take them in his palm.  
“It is not so bad, my lady.” He chuckled softly. “I mean, my father survived thousands of years with only half his vision. The patch looks a bit badass, if I say so myself.” Once glance at Syn and he cleared his throat, wiping the grin off his face. “But yes. I am here.”  
“With the last of my power, I have decided to return it.” She squeezed his fingers weakly. “At this rate, with my wounds, I will suffer for days. This way, at least, I will go quick, and in service to my king.”  
“There must be someone, somewhere who can help,” Thor replied quickly, gripping her hand. “There have been too many deaths already. Those who can be saved will be saved.”  
“I am not among that number, Majesty.”  
His lips formed to make words but none came.  
“You see, my king, my dearest sister, ever since she befriended you, has always told me endlessly of the beauty she found in your eyes.”  
He felt the corners of his lips twitch into a smile.  
“I was unaware.”  
“Oh yes. She would never admit it, and perhaps never will after I am gone, but she loves them fiercely, finds strength and power in them, sees love and passion. She could look into them for millennia,” Eir mustered up a strained, gurgly laugh in her throat. “And it no doubt broke her heart to see one of what she loves with such ferocity taken by Hela. And so, my king, I wish to restore, for my sister’s sake, your missing eye.”  
He shifted after a moment.  
“I am honored,” he murmured, unsure of how to answer. “But is such a thing possible?”  
“Of course, my king,” Eir smiled. “It will require all my strength and power, but it will be put to good use. My life for my sister’s happiness.”  
“It is hardly a fair trade,” Syn scoffed, her trembling arms crossed over her chest. Thor looked up to protest but her glare was aimed straight for him, boring into his skull, weakening his bones.  
He was uncertain if she was referring to Eir’s trade off for her happiness, or her death for his eye.  
“You cannot remain bitter, Syn,” Eir scolded in her quiet, drawn-out way. “It is my wish to do this.”  
With one last lingering look to her sister, Syn nodded and stepped away from the pair.  
“As you wish.”

Thor watched her for a moment before Eir regained his attention.  
“Your patch, if you please, my king.”  
“Oh, oh, of course.” He gave a quick smile before easily prying off the smooth black patch, a single thread of gold running through it. The scar from Hela’s blade would never heal, he guessed.  
A shaking, bloody hand motioned for him to come closer, and he did, fitting his forehead gently into her palm.  
“Thank you, Lady Eir.” He said softly, looking into her wet eyes.  
“Do not thank me, Thor Odinson.” She smiled before her hand tightened ever so slightly against his head, and his eye closed.

A surge of magic built its way up through her arm, crawling steadily before it established a firm line from Eir to Thor. Golden sparks encircled his head and her hand, whirring faster and faster until it was merely a blur. His whole body was tingling with the sensation of such healing magic, the likes of which he’d never experienced before. He closed his eyes against the blinding sparks for what seemed like an hour, but it lasted only seconds.

And just like that, her hand fell away.

Dead and cold, it landed on the floor, with no magical energy to surge through its veins. The goddess’ body beside him began to vanish into a hazy, silver cloud, before there was nothing left. He blinked and the cloud was gone.  
And yet, he could see out of both eyes. No longer was his right eye subject to the dull throbbing of before. No longer could he feel the patch lying on his skin.  
Excited, he stood, and turned, only to be met by a punishing fist slamming with godly force into his jaw.  
It was only a few yards but he slammed shoulder-first into the wall, groaning in pain. Before he could begin to register what had hit him, she was in front of him, eyes flaring a furious purple, the color coursing beneath her skin.  
“This is all your doing!” A well-placed hit landed at his temple, his vision blurring for a split second. “She is dead because of you! They are all dead!” Syn nearly screamed, punch after punch after punch raining down on his face. It vaguely reminded him of the arena on Sakaar, only...worse.

His hearing became muffled, his face numb. He registered each hit, he could see her lips moving, her eyes crying, the tears streaking clean paths down her dirty cheeks. But he felt nothing. Only her weight on his chest, keeping him down on the floor.  
He felt hot electricity dance up his fingertips and with a split second reaction, his hand came up to catch her fist before it had time to land on his already bruised cheek. Syn stared down at him from her place above, crying, sobbing, unable to control anything. His arms felt the urge to squeeze her hand, to listen to each finger crack and snap as it broke, to shatter each bone of her arm for aimlessly assaulting him so, but he did none of it.  
Her fingers instead curled into the neckline of his cuirass and she sobbed, her tears landing on his burning face, her sobs carrying weight through his newly cleared ears. He stared at her for a good while, letting her cry on top of him, until the purple in her eyes and her arms faded and flickered out.  
He heard the door slide open and Loki’s voice, but paid no attention to it. Thor only sat up, gently taking Syn into his arms, holding her as close as he could to give her comfort, stroking his bruised fingers through her hair, listening as her wails quieted gradually against his neck.  
He caught sight of his deformed reflection in her armor, and squinted to see his own face. Once he moved it enough he found what he was looking for. There was only one surprise; one eye was now a beaming, pure silver color, while the other remained an icy cool blue.  
He closed them and rocked himself slowly from side to side, coaxing the distressed goddess in his arms to sleep. Loki made no sound or movement to intervene or ask, only stepping back and leaving his brother in peace.  
“I am here, kjære.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kjære: Norwegian for “darling”


End file.
